Should science serve society? Should its pioneers focus on trying to discern the harmonies of the cosmos or seek to make more immediate contributions to the world around them? These questions are at the heart of Maxim Gorky’s play, which dates from 1905 and is presented here in a new version by Andrew Upton. It’s a passionate piece, albeit one that’s slow to ignite.

Geoffrey Streatfeild plays Protasov, a chemist oblivious to the needs of his wife Yelena (Justine Mitchell). He’s an ardent experimenter, interested in big issues and inclined to an almost buffoonish grandiosity. He may speak of “mucking around” and may call people “grumps” but he’s a bubbling cauldron of erudition, aware of the importance of science and able to declare that he is “uncovering the secret of life”.

Around him cluster apostles and dependants. His sister Liza is given a fidgety intensity by Emma Lowndes; she’s the kind of person who frets about social inequality making life feel “disposable”. Lucy Black is the impassioned Melaniya, who idolises Protasov, licks the books he lends her and recoils from the garbage that spews from her as she attempts to get under his skin.

Paul Higgins is spot-on as Melaniya’s brother Boris, a tetchy and disappointed vet, alert to the risk of social upheaval.

Gerald Kyd, meanwhile, makes a keen impression as the artist Vageen, who calls Protasov insipid but stays buzzing around because he’s smitten with Yelena.

Howard Davies’s production conveys Gorky’s mixture of sanity and daring. At first it has a leisurely quality. Bunny Christie’s design is finely detailed yet suggests an expansive world of privilege, with Protasov’s laboratory sitting to one side — a hothouse, display case and potential Tardis.

Although the characters’ interactions seem trivial for much of the first two acts, there is a note of volatility even in the most banal moments — a sense of something brewing. Liza says society’s structures are collapsing, and there are repeated hints of incipient class war. But a more pressing source of anxiety for the local peasants is an outbreak of cholera.

Upton’s version of the text is layered and fresh. He has strong form with Russian drama, having previously reworked Gorky’s Philistines and Bulgakov’s The White Guard, as well as The Cherry Orchard. All have been staged at the National Theatre, directed by Davies.

Upton has in the past been accused of introducing too much modern phrasing into these plays, and here it’s certainly a surprise to hear Protasov talk about “uni”. Yet he captures Gorky’s comedy and his jagged rhythms, and there’s real complexity in the characterisation.